Searching for Evidence Read online

Once again his sister, Amy, had an opinion on that too.

  I think all kids who were given up for adoption have trust issues, Marco. That doesn’t mean you have to drag them into your romantic life too.

  It was an old piece of sisterly advice but she’d been doling it out more frequently since her marriage to her high school sweetheart. She’d found love and she wanted the same for him.

  Instead she’d watched him transfer out of his job, their hometown and to a place in dire need of a second chance.

  No one was perfect.

  Marco changed into his gym clothes and met Carlos out at the only bar in Kelby Creek.

  Once a motel, then renovated into a bed-and-breakfast and then split into a bar, storage and office spaces for rent, the Rosewater Bar was as eclectic as some of its regulars.

  Marco had been there twice already and gave a polite nod to the local psychic as he went in. She was at a table with the neon pink–haired coroner, Amanda Alvarez. Carlos made a beeline for the group while Marco went to the bar to order two beers.

  It was almost six at night and his stomach growled as he waited. He started to wonder if Carlos wouldn’t mind grabbing a bite to eat instead of a second beer when the front door to the bar opened and a new set of patrons walked in.

  Bella Greene was nothing but magnificent.

  Even in overalls.

  Her hair was twisted up in a messy bun, though half of the light brown locks had escaped and rested against the denim straps across each shoulder like she’d meant to do it that way. However, Marco got the feeling it wasn’t a deliberate style. Instead he picked up more of a Belle vibe from the woman, the heroine from Beauty and the Beast, a movie that Amy had had on repeat when she was in middle school. It was like Bella had been wandering around in her overalls, patches of dirt across the pants, and had only come into the bar because she was guided by someone.

  Her eyes, ice blue, were still on her companion as he let the door shut behind them.

  They were laughing.

  Marco didn’t like the man, though he knew how irrational that was.

  Bella followed him to a booth against the wall and they settled just as Carlos made his way over to the bar. Marco averted his gaze from the woman he’d barely had a conversation with and looked at the defeat on his partner’s face.

  Marco snorted.

  “Listen, I said I’d keep you from texting Janice. You never said anything about keeping you from talking to a psychic or medical examiner.”

  Carlos rolled his eyes and it was their turn to find a seat.

  Marco still had a sightline to Bella but tried to keep his attention off her. Though he’d already failed that in the last two weeks. The ride from her truck to the restaurant had indeed been almost ten minutes on the dot. During that time their conversation had been limited to a few throwaway facts about their route into town, the mention that she worked with her brother and father, and that she’d been to North Carolina on vacation but hadn’t been to where he’d moved from.

  Then Marco had waited in the parking lot until two men, dressed as fancy as she had been, had picked her up.

  Because, while he fully understood how she could have thought his watchfulness was creepy, there had been something about the way she held herself that made his gut stand at attention.

  Bella Greene hadn’t just been wary of strangers, she’d been afraid.

  Afraid and clutching a piece of paper.

  Marco would have asked her about that detail had she still had it in her hand when she’d first gotten into the car, but she hadn’t.

  Still, it was enough to worry him.

  Even after she’d left with, he assumed, her brother and father, Marco had wondered about the paper.

  About her.

  And now there she was across the bar from him. No fear, no note, no broken-down truck in the background while she held a wrench like a bat.

  No—

  Marco felt his brows push together seconds before the thought that troubled him was staring him in the face.

  Carlos, who had been talking about how the attic above them had been part of some case, stopped midsentence.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  It might have been nothing but it might be something. Either way it wedged into Marco’s mind like a popcorn kernel between teeth and he had to pick at it.

  “How long have you been working at the sheriff’s department?”

  Carlos was fast with his math.

  “Seven years and a few months. Why?”

  “In that time, how many calls have you gotten for people with broken-down vehicles?”

  This time he wasn’t as fast.

  “Uh, I mean, I can’t really remember every one but I’d guess...twenty times? Maybe? Why? What are you thinking?”

  Marco tapped his thumb against the beer bottle. He looked back over at Bella.

  “I’ve been to four since I got here.”

  Carlos shrugged.

  “Half of the town works outside Kelby Creek. Stands to reason that breakdowns would happen. Maybe since it’s been colder than normal for us, people have been moving around more.”

  Marco nodded but that kernel was still there.

  He decided not to mention that, of the four he’d responded to—Bella included and the first—every one of them had been a woman. Brunettes, to be specific.

  Coincidence, Marco told himself.

  He took a swig of his beer and forced himself back into the conversation Carlos had been trying to have.

  Yet his mind and gaze kept wandering to the booth against the wall.

  Bella.

  And the paper that had been in her hand.

  What exactly had it said?

  * * *

  BELLA HAD HAD an off day the first time she’d met Marco. She had known it then, knew it after when she replayed the meeting and knew it again when she finally realized he was in the same bar she was.

  Not even the same bar, but standing at the edge of the booth and grinning.

  She also had known and now knew again that Marco Rossi was a man whose image belonged on a poster in a teen girl’s bedroom. Or a model in an ad that you saved to your phone and then sent it to your friends with fire emoji or GIFs of women fanning themselves.

  Bottom line and with the bottom dollar, Marco was as good-looking as he had been weeks ago.

  She, on the other hand, was no longer the woman who had threatened him with a rusted wrench while wearing her party heels.

  Now Bella was in a familiar place, with a friend, and had already looked into Marco’s tale of being a new deputy at the sheriff’s department and deemed it true.

  She was also now in, what her brother had dubbed, her yeehaw overalls. Something she wore on workdays when rain was predicted so she had enough pockets to store materials if it came down before she could find cover. Something that often happened despite all three Greenes having a radar app on their cell phones.

  It wasn’t a cute look, even without the dirt and mud splotches. At least now she wasn’t terrified and ready to defend herself with whatever was around her.

  It was the little things.

  “Deputy Rossi!”

  Marco laughed while she cringed. She’d overcompensated for her self-consciousness and applied her enthusiasm a little too hard. He was kind enough not to mention it.

  “Miss Greene, nice to see you again.”

  The way his voice rumbled over her one-syllable name took the low heat from her drink and fanned it a little.

  Justin, her current drinking buddy, wasn’t as coy about it. His eyebrow rose in question. She hurried to answer it.

  “Justin, this is the deputy I was telling you about. The one who gave me a ride when my truck broke down. Marco Rossi. And, Marco, this is my friend Justin Hastings.”

  Justi
n was his own kind of handsome, though it was more of a classic Hollywood type. He was tall, very tall, and wore suits that were custom, fitted and expensive. He had brown hair that was, as long as she’d known him, always cut short and impeccably groomed. Though she’d never thought it was polite to ask, she estimated his age to be midthirties. He’d become a local after Bella left town, and since she’d been back, he had been one of Greene Thumb and Hammer’s biggest supporters. Like Bella he was good at networking at work but not the best at socializing outside of a small subset of people. Val and her father belonged to that group but were running behind because of the last rain.

  “Nice to meet you,” Justin said. “And thanks for helping Bella here out. I know her dad appreciated it since all of us were out of town.”

  They shook hands.

  “It was no problem,” Marco replied. “Just doing my job.” He turned and addressed Bella directly. “Actually, if you don’t mind, could I talk to you really quick? It’ll take two seconds.”

  Color her surprised, Bella hadn’t expected that. Justin, however, was the first to respond. He stood.

  “I was just about to head to the restroom really quick so feel free to take my seat.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Bella watched, confused and equally intrigued, as the deputy switched places with Justin.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. I was just going to ask you something about your truck.”

  “It’s not a date.” Marco’s brow rose, most likely at the quickness of the answer. It wasn’t the first time someone had mistaken her occasional outing with Justin as more than platonic. “We’re just friends. Justin and me, I mean. He’s actually a client too.”

  For some reason, Bella felt she had to prove herself. She pulled out her phone and went to the second to last picture in her camera roll that she’d taken.

  “See, we built a small shed for his mom when we first started the family business and he liked it so much that we’re doing one for him now. It’s bigger though, a sixteen-by-sixteen. We had to tarp what we had of it today because of the rain. Which is why I’m—well, wearing these.”

  Bella motioned to her outfit with one hand and used the other to hold the phone for him. He looked between the picture of the partially built shed and her overalls. It was around then that she realized she’d talked faster than normal.

  She was self-conscious again.

  Bella blamed it on the heat that was steadily crawling up her neck at his closeness. She had been caught wholly off guard by the man being in the bar. Never mind actually sitting across from her.

  Her gaze went to his left hand. No ring and no tan line from one.

  Did that mean he was single?

  What if he was?

  Bella could have kept entertaining those thoughts but then the man in question went and did it.

  Deputy Rossi went and put his foot in it big-time.

  Whether he meant it to be offensive or not, his next words threw whatever attraction she was feeling for the man out into the night.

  “You actually did that? That’s really impressive.”

  Maybe, just maybe, if he’d asked her father or brother that question instead, Bella wouldn’t feel the anger pop up. But she’d already heard it and variations from several men throughout the last three years. None of them had been as good-looking as the deputy, but when it came to defending herself, nothing—including whether or not she wanted to run her hands through a man’s hair—stopped her from standing tall.

  Even if she was sitting down in a booth in a bar.

  “Did I actually help build the shed I told you that I helped build?” she deadpanned. “Yeah. I did actually do that. You know, because it’s my job.”

  She took her phone back with speed and went to her purse for a business card. She had it out and was handing it to him before he could find an appropriate response.

  “See that name? Greene Thumb and Hammer, emphasis on the Greene part,” she said, face going hot. “Not the Greene Men or Greene and Son. All of the Greene family.” She decided it wasn’t pertinent to amend her statement with the fact that her mother didn’t help in any way with the business because she was happily and joyfully retired after years of working administration in a high school. Instead her arms went over her chest like armor.

  Then the deputy finally rebutted.

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” He also sat up taller. Going stiff like a football player ready to protect his quarterback. She’d offended him with her being offended. “I was just trying to say that it was impressive. I once tried to build a table for a girl I was dating and it fell apart.”

  Bella could feel part of herself cooling into regret. A part of her letting her know that she was, in fact, being a bit unreasonable. Yet she’d spent the last three years being questioned by enough sexist men to go for the throat before pulling back on the throttle.

  “Oh, so because you can’t do woodworking, then the fact that I, a woman, can do it is really impressive?”

  “No. That’s not what I meant either. I just didn’t know what your job was. If you did the business or social media side or—”

  Bella’s eyebrow rose high.

  He held up his hand to stop her.

  “Wait. That sounded like I was proving your point, and I’m not,” he interrupted. “You’re taking this out of context. If you could just listen to me for a second and—”

  “Oh, I am listening, deputy,” she shot back. “I’m listening to every word.”

  Marco surprised her by making a strangled kind of grunting noise.

  “What is it with this town and how much everyone talks?” he asked. “You’re all so frustrating.”

  If she had mistaken his intent earlier, she knew she wasn’t now.

  “Frustrating? You just need to learn how to choose your words more carefully. We’re living in the twenty-first century, Deputy. Not some kind of ’80s cop movie where the short skirt with car trouble is only there for eye candy and a reason for the hero to want to save the day.” Like Bella knew her anger was unreasonable, she knew part of it was from another place too. One of fear and worry.

  One tied to a note she’d put in her bedroom safe.

  But anger was unruly and it flailed around without hesitation and with no empathy for the man it was striking.

  Bella went for her purse and pulled it up, readying to leave the table, the conversation and maybe the bar entirely.

  Another man, however, changed her course.

  Carlos Park, a longtime sheriff’s deputy, which was a rare claim, considering what had happened to the department with The Flood, hustled up to the table, phone in hand.

  He nodded to Bella, seemingly unaware that she was seething, but spoke to Marco.

  “Sorry to interrupt but a call just came in that I’d like to check out. Mind if we go? I already paid the tab.”

  Marco’s brows knitted together but he stood all the same. He glanced at Bella, nostrils flared.

  There was that heat, that not entirely angry heat, again. Sizzling beneath the surface.

  Bella doubled down on resisting it long enough to make sure she didn’t do the polite Southern thing and smile.

  “That’s no problem for me,” Marco answered.

  “No problem at all,” Bella added. “It was good to see you again.”

  Just like that, Marco followed Carlos out into the night, leaving Bella to cool down from everything while Justin settled back into his original seat with a raised eyebrow.

  It was only later that night, deep beneath her covers as she was trying to fall asleep, that Bella wondered what Marco had wanted to know about her truck.

  And what situation he’d just run off to that had kept him from asking it.

  Chapter Two

  Sheriff Chamblin wasn’t outside the local grocery s
tore but Detective Lovett was. And boy, Marco hadn’t spent a lot of time with him but could see he was spitting mad.

  “A prank call,” he grumbled, pocketing his phone into his off-duty clothes. He, Marco and Carlos were the only law who’d responded to Main Street and all three were in their street wear. The uniformed deputies had gone to the two other locations that had called in suspicious activities around town.

  Apparently they hadn’t found anything either.

  Or, at least, not more than the two words spray-painted somewhere at their location.

  Got you was small, in black spray paint and extremely annoying, staring Marco in the face from the brick wall on the grocery store’s facade.

  Detective Lovett ran a hand through his surprisingly long blond hair and stared at the words a moment. Then he blew out a breath.

  “I get that this town has issues with us but I wish they’d funnel that into something else,” he said. “Like running for local government and applying for the empty spots we have. Help us be the change we all want, not pull us in all different directions for a lousy prank.”

  “Small towns also breed boredom,” Marco had to point out. “Doesn’t mean whoever did this was trying to prove anything.”

  The detective agreed to that with a few small nods.

  Then he was smiling apologetically at the men.

  “Thanks for coming out. I know it wasn’t a normal call but I had to reach out just in case.”

  It seemed Carlos, who had led the charge to Main Street, had lost the tension that had also wound Marco up without knowing why. They’d taken both of their cars and sped to Main Street with purpose and determination. Now those feelings ebbed into a tiredness for Marco. A low after an adrenaline high. He thought Carlos might be feeling the same. The deputy let out his own low, long breath, deflating his once-uptight stance.

  He nodded toward the grocery store.

  “The last time you came out to this place with no plans on shopping, a lot went down,” Carlos said. “I wanted to make sure that didn’t happen again. At least not alone.”

  “And I’ll be sure to let Millie know you two came to the rescue. Even if there was no rescue that was needed.”